Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1887-11-26
sLAcKslaDs or NEW JERSEY.
The Exciting Sport Recently Had Along
the Upper Shrewsbury.


the Upper Shrewsbury.
There has been excellent b!ackbir,l
shooting above Red Bank on the Shrews.
bury for several weeks, but the birds are
now thinned ont or driven off by the guns.
In the height Of the season these birds
assemble in the reeds on either side OF the
river in swarms that must include mil
lions. The sportsmen have only half an
h0uI the thirty minutes before dark
in which to shoot them, but during that
time the flocks that sail overhead blacker
the cir like great clouds. The gunner
who have taken their stations in the char
acteristic clumsy batteaux which the shall
low water demands either hug one OF the
walls Of reeds or heap green boughs upon
their boats TO deceive the birds. In either
case, the bulk Of the birds will fly close
10 the earth over the sportsinen and one
or more flocks will drop into the reeds
close at hand. They fly so close together
that the slaughter is apt to be consider
able il good close shot is obtained. The
blackbird is worth the game. He is be-
tween sparrow and Robin in size, and
feeds on corn and chestnuts. He is a
gourmet among birds.
To the man who is lying in wait for
the birds the scene is exciting, but to one
who simply happens in that part of the
river at that time it is most beautiful and
novel. AS the hocks Of birds drop into the
thickets of reeds and cling to the straight
and densely crowded stalks they look like
black fruit in tropic profusion in an or
chard of trees unknown to fact or
fiction. As they drop upon their perches
they begin to chatter, and it is no exag-
geration to say that they fill the air for a
great distance with their limpid. plain
tive little notes. To an unsophisticated
sportsman the sight of long, dense wall
Of reeds or grass dotted black with plump
birds il not only tempting, but one that
he feels sure that he can profit by. He
rows noiselessly to where he sees the
birds, making his boat creep in utter
silence to the edge of the grassy wall. AS
he begins to attain the position deter
mined on--pshaw! there is little rustic
and the nearest birds disappear. Never
mind, he remarks to himself, there are
heaps more of them further along. He
grasps his oars again and renews his
silent motion, but, thunder and Mars!
at every foot of the boats progress there
is that same little rustic in the reeds and
few yards more of the ripe and winged
fruit disappears. The birds appear to
drop below the parted tops of the reeds,
where they have been perching, into the
dense under part, where they cannot be
seen. Some say, however, that they also
move back into safer quarters.
The sportsman sees that his is losing
game, and knowing that startled birds
often rise when settled down in that way,
utters yell or simply coughs. The ruse
succeeds as far as disturbing the birds is
concerned. They do rise, but not above
the reeds. They fly between the waving
tops and are gone while their pursuer
waits for them to give him a shot. If he
loes send a despairing shot after them
and is afterward of the opinion that he
saw one or two fall, he will learn some
thing else that he did not know, which is
that he must have thigh boots or he can
never get through the deep mud in which
the reeds grow to pick up his quarry.
Either boots or else dog. York
Aun.